Mask
by Lonely Looney
Summary: Meg Giry had always been curious. Until she finds a true obsession. A mask that, for someone, was an object of hatred. It seems a small thing. But little things sometimes can generate a cataclism...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This fic has nothing to do with Paint Never Dries, for starters. Also, I must warn you I didn't follow ALW by heart. There shall be Leroux elements, because I can't countain myself. And do forgive me for mistakes, like always. English is not my first language, I'm Brazilian. I hope you guys vote and comment. I'd be honored, no matter if it is criticism. Thank you! Meg is a character I love. And as a side note. There is a character here not only based, but the spitting image from the 1990 Charles Dance series. Don't worry, you will know! Unless you only care for Gerard Butler (ew).**

**As for Gerard Butler... IMO he is a sweet and nice guy and that is where it ends. Bad casting. He is gorgeous? Then picture my _Hugh Panaro_ on this phanfic. He is the most Leroux and the most in character. Ever. Even though I must acknowledge there are so many amazing Phantoms, especially in books and even in phanfictions. Gerry, sorry, you're NOT one of them.**

**And no, if Christine shows up here, she's DEFINITELY not Emmy Rossum. A little girl who hadn't even watched a single Phantom show to prepare for the part.**

**Now, as for Patrick Wilson, if he appeared (spoiler, he won't), you should imagine him at your will. Plus, he NEVER became a drunkard, just so you know.**

**And _the most important_. I've seen MANY Megs. But... Okay, now, judge me. Picture Jennifer Ellison for this phanfiction. She is so... so... *sigh* perfect.**

* * *

Chapter 01 –

Meg stared. And stared. It had been thus for months. She could barely concentrate on her own mother's balet classes now.

The cornsilk hair ballerina was obsessed.

And with a _mask_.

After that mysterious man entered that throne and disappeared, that was all he left behind.

_"Who is he?"_ she thought to herself.

Well. Time to find out.

But how?

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Meg fell during the fouéttes, for being so distracted in class.

"Meg!" Madame Giry cried "What are you musing about?"

Suddenly, she had a spark. Her _mother_! She had all the information she might need!

But would she give it?

Well, if necessary she would even grovel.

"Pardon, Mama. I can be clumsy. I didn't mean to disappoint you. I love you."

Madame Giry was startled.

"Oh, I... Meg, please!" all the ballerinas were laughing. "Moderation is key to everything. Let's continue, girls!"

Well, her mother was tough. But she would convince her Mama if it was the last thing she did.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Madame Giry and Meg slept in separate rooms in the Opera. When Giry was awoken by someone knocking on her door, she got _really_ scared.

"Mama!" Meg whispered "It's me!"

"Meg!" she opened the door wearing her nightgown "What are you doing here? Awaken at this hour!"

"Mama, there's a good reason! I need to talk to you."

Madame Giry sighed.

"Come in, Meg."

In Madame Giry's room there was an armchair, a wardrobe and a bed.

"Now you are suddenlly mute?"

Meg was beginning to lose face. But she took a deep breath and started.

"Mama... What do you know about the Phantom of the Opera? Could you tell me everything?"

Madame Giry blanched.

"Meg. Go to your room."

"But, Mama!"

" . . Now!"

Meg was so angry. She marched to her room with tears pooling in her eyes.

But then...

She had a brilliant idea.

Visit Christine's room. She had a master key. She scavenged from Joseph Buquet's corpse.

Christine's room was apparently as normal as always. Meg sighed and leaned on the mirror.

It gave way. The ballerina gave a little shriek.

There was a clue! She forced the mirror to open and saw all that darkness. It was ominous.

But she entered anyway.

The ballerina walked a long time in darkness, alone, scared. Meg passed by a place she knew to be the Opera boilers, but it actually looked like demons. She walked further, there was water, a lake? Till she bumped into something.

"_A boat?"_

Then, light was made.

There was someone there. Staring at her. With a nasty look.

And his _face_!

It was full of things that seemed like tumors, but even worse than that and his mouth was distorted, he had almost no hair...

At the same time as she analyzed, Meg didn't realize she had been screaming. Screaming with all the strength of her lungs.

Until she fainted.

What she failed to understand was how she woke up in her own bed.

She knew it had not been a dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 02 -

"Meg! On three again! Where is your head on!" Madame Giry was so furious that even the ballerinas were scared like ballet rats.

"Mama, I didn't mean to fall again! I'm just clumsy!"

"You're just out! Out! Get out of my sight, Meg!"

Meg left, crying, sitting on the stairs of the Opera.

So many people selling things. She could quit being a ballerina and become one of them.

Then, she saw what she considered the symbol of purity. _Daisies._

She bought a bouquet.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

The next night, Meg went through Christine's eerie corridor again.

She had to apologize.

"_How could Christine have kept such a secret from me!" _she thought, bitterlly.

This time, at least, she had taken a torchlight.

The problem was, when Meg was upset, tears pooled at the corner of her eyes.

When she got to the boat, she was already trembling. He was there.

Composing, with that aghast face. That stared at her with those piercing eyes.

"You again. Came for another bout of shouting?"

Meg was glued to the floor.

"So?" he said.

She stared at him and said without sttutering:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Phantom. You just caught me by surprise. I've been meaning to meet you for _ages_."

That actually intrigued him.

"Why?"

"Uh... My friend, Christine. She talked about you endlessly."

The Phantom face fell. Meg regretted her words for reasons she didn't know why.

"I'm sorry." was all she said.

"Past is past, girl. And no aliases. My name is not 'Phantom'. If you promise not to divulge it, I could tell it to you."

She cackled.

"Not to divulge a name? My name is well known! I am not 'girl'."

The ballerina then realized how lonely he must be. And those damn tears threatened to show again...

"Oh, I know who you are. You are the Giry girl. _Meg."_

It sounded almost like a caress.

"And you, sir?"

Watching so much purity, the Phantom couldn't handle.

"My name is Erik, your servant."

"I won't forget either." she smiled at him, brightening her face. Then she stretched her right arm to offer him the flowers.

"What? What is that, Miss Giry?"

"Call me Meg, Erik. They're daisies, as you can see. I came here today to apologize for my abhorrent behavihor last time.

Erik admired the flowers a long time. Never had anyone given anything to him. He was moved.

"Thank you."

"Can you imagine if it had been a rose? They're just daisies! Oh, my, Erik, I have to go! The rehearsals have already begun! Thank you for everything!"

Meg's yellow hair flew in the Lair's darkness while she ran. Erik observed.

"That's all so absurd..." He thought, contemplating one of the flowers.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 03 –

Meg danced like a nymph that day. Madame Giry didn't say, but showed how proud she was. All the colleagues were badmouthing her after the class. Everyone was so jealous.

"Did you see how she sweated and flushed?" laughed La Sorelli, who had started the racket outside her room, which she shared with Little Jammes.

"We all did! And the stench!" screeched a brown-eyed ballerina.

Too late. Meg Giry had heard it all. And she was furious.

"Is there no sorority here?"

La Sorelli said, smirking:

"'Sorority?' Hah! Don't make me laugh! You are the one who are always on your own."

"I don't see the point. We never cared for each other."

All the ballerinas crowding the room were tense for a fight.

"Corelli, am I really stinking that bad?"

The brown-eyed ballerina ran out of the room in tears.

La Sorelli puckered her lips in anger. _She_ should be the Prima-Ballerina! Not that brat!

Meg would fall now and right away.

"Oh, but if you talk about 'sorority', you should mingle! Be our friends. You never showed any interest. You act like a spoiled brat who already has everything he wants."

"I suppose..." Meg mused "I suppose that, if I'm that necessary, I could make myself more available..."

La Sorelli gave a piercing laughter and said to Meg she thought too high of herself. Meg got utterly confused, especially when even the youngest ballerinas started laughing at her.

The blonde ballerina was about to cry. But took a deep breath to recover.

"Well, you could teach me, Sorelli. Since you are available to all those rich men..." Meg smirked.

La Sorelli's green eyes bulged. She snapped and jumped on Meg, full of rage, pulling her cornsilk hair.

While Meg shouted, for Sorelli was taller and bigger than her, who was _mignon_, Cecille Jammes and other ballerinas ran for reinforcements. Madame Giry came as if on a Spaceship.

"What the hell is happening here?!"

"Mama!"

"Madame!"

She slapped both girls cheeks and gave them a punishment. They had to polish the silverware of the Opera.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Meg entered her room snapping her bones after so much hard work. Then, her wardrobe opened and _Erik_ came out of it.

Meg muffled a high-pitched scream.

"So, the daisies were all an act?"

She felt terrible, even though he had tousled all her clothes.

She sighed.

"Of course they were not an act. Erik. You just caught me out of guard."

"I brought this for you."

"Lilies?" she held the bouquet.

_"I hate lilies."_

"You do? Had I ever known, I would have asked what kind of flower you liked! Oh, my God!"

Meg couldn't _believe_ she had said that out aloud.

"I'm-I'm so sorry. They're my Mother's favorite flowers and my Father was buried deep in them."

Erik was shocked. He didn't know how to react.

"I know. You don't have to say anything."

Without realizing, he boldly touched her hands. Her eyes filled. To break the tension, Meg invited:

"Erik, how about one of these days we make a picnic? You do need to eat."

He made a sour face.

"One of these days." he answered, full of tenderness.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 04 -

As expected, Madame Giry had found the offense of both girls too grave. That whole next afternoon, they would miss ballet classes and clean more and more.

Needless to say, they were indignant.

La Sorelli was polishing some silverware and throwing ugly glances at Meg while the other dusted a huge vase.

Meg could feel her nape _burning_.

She threw the duster on the floor and started, with her hands in the air:

"All right. All right, La Sorelli! We don't have to love each other, but we don't need to be enemies!"

La Sorelli stared at her with a mortal anger.

"Do you think I'll ever have any kind of respect for you? You brat."

Meg gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes to control herself.

"Your choice, Sorelli. But why?"

La Sorelli gave that loud shrieking laughter.

"Are you joking? You keep falling on your ass and are the Teacher's Pet because she's your _mother_!"

Meg opened and closed her mouth several times.

"That's not true! It happened _twice_ and because I was distracted!"

La Sorelli made a dismissive gesture and kept at her work. Meg was so furious her stomach ached.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Meg entered her room as tired as possible, and there was a note on her bed.

**_"Dear Meg Giry._**

**_I realized I still don't know what are your favorite flowers. Leave a note here somewhere and I shall arrange._**

**_Your servant,_**

**_O.G."_**

Meg grunted. The insolence! A most mysterious and strange man having complete free passage to her room!

No. She didn't like that!

Meg opened her wardrobe and tried to find the secret passage, but for nothing in this world could she find it. She felt like burning, destroying the structure. But had to keep cool and get Christine's key to go through the mirror.

When she finally arrived, Erik was calmly peeling an apple.

He was so lucky the knife was with him! Not _in_ him!

He noticed her and said warmly:

"Oh, but it's the Giry girl! Came by to tell me personally about the flowers?"

Meg lost all control. She was dirty, sweaty and unbalanced right then.

"_No_! I came to give you a good smack on the face! You are an indecent, sir! How dare you enter my room without myself there, and what it's worse, by my wardrobe!"

She sobbed and sobbed.

"Miss Giry, are you all right?"

Meg wailed, scaring Erik.

"No! I'm _not_ all right! And I hate flowers, for that matter! I like sweets! But Mama doesn't let me eat them! I want to die!"

Erik was dead silent.

"I am sorry, Miss Giry... Meg. I don't like to see you suffering."

"Eh? Why?" Meg sniffled.

Erik sighed.

"Because you are a good person. And those are hard to come by."

Meg bit her lower lip.

"Today was a hard day."

"I can see that. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." and she kissed Erik's cheek, startling him.

He recovered himself and invited Meg:

"Come tomorrow. You are going to be very happy."

"Thank you. I will."

She was leaving, when he reiterated:

"Oh, and Meg? Don't worry about the passageways in your room. Only I know where they are, and if you do not want me to, I won't go there anymore."

"Come whenever you want to!" she grabbed his cold hands without flinching.

And left, bouncing that bright hair.

But there was something the pair had failed to notice. A shadow. Hiding, listening.

And the shadow made the sign of the cross on the ring it wore before leaving.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

The next day, Meg woke up very much disposed. Danced like a nymph, just like always. Bathed, dressed her best outfit and ran to Christine's room.

The ballerina now knew a route where she didn't have to drown into the lake.

And there it was.

A picnic towel so full of food, especially sweets that Meg felt like rolling on it with excitement.

"So, I take you like it?" asked Erik, ironically.

Meg hugged him, startling him again. They looked at each other for a while. Meg's eyes were so blue...

"Shall we eat?" he broke the mood.

He didn't have to ask twice. Meg was devouring the éclairs like there was no toorrow. Erik barely ate, but something inside him stirred.

"Erik, you have a bit of... of..." she signalized to the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, of course."

Meg did the unthinkable. Took him on her arms and licked the chocolate.

Erik froze, scared. He thought how good it was to be held and desired, but...

_Something was wrong._

Especially the way Meg was staring at him. _Wrong. Wrong. Wrong._

"I don't... understand..." she said. I fancied myself in love with you.

"_Really_?" he gave a huge smile. "I never thought of us together."

She started to laugh.

"I can be such an idiot. Forgive me, Erik."

The Phantom held Meg against his chest and said:

"Don't ever belittle yourself, Meg. We all have our destinies. More sweet?"

"No, please! Mama would kill me if I lost my clothes!"

They laughed and talked for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 05 –

Meg excelled so much that La Sorelli was more than envious.

Plus, she was constantly seeing Erik.

The ballerina had no idea the good that that friendship was doing to him. He had mellowed out, smiled more, even ate more... Meg ate too, hidden from her mother.

But the vult with the ring saw everything.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

At night, when Meg had freshened up, someone knocked on her door.

Well. It couldn't be the Phantom, she sang to herself.

It was La Sorelli. How odd.

"Hi, Meg! Got a minute?"

Well, wasn't she chipper. Meg smiled brightly and gave her passage.

"So." La Sorelli started, sitting on Meg's bed. The blonde found a bit abusive, but said nothing. "So. Congratulations on your success."

"Um... Thank you."

"Too bad I'll be back to my rightful place soon, Little Star."

"Really?" laughed Meg. "How so?"

"Well, you just have to start falling again, and whatever. Unless you want me to tell everyone about you and your little monster."

Meg blanched.

"He may hear you, Sorelli. Cut your throat in your sleep. Do not ever threaten him."

La Sorelli made the Sign of the Cross on her ring, as a protection charm.

"That remains to be seen, Giry." she rose. "Bye!"

And she left the room, while Meg cried softly.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Madame Giry got fed up with Meg falling constantly that week.

"Meg! If you don't stop, I'll demote you for a ballet rat!"

Humiliated, she saw La Sorelli watching her every move.

And to make matters worse for Meg, Erik was sitting on the armchair beside her bed waiting for her. That was the exact reason she had to obey Sorelli. Erik was way too indiscreet for their own good.

"What are you doing here?" she asked rudely.

"Why, I thought we were friends."

"It doesn't mean, Phantom, that you can invade my room anytime."

Erik was perplexed. It had never been thus. Meg was definitely not herself.

"What's happening, Meg?"

Meg couldn't lose control now. Erik was in her room. God help her mother or _La Sorelli_ caught them. She had to protect him now. It was all her fault.

"I decided I don't want to see you anymore. Ever again. Just leave, Phantom. You did bad things. Mama told me."

Erik was feeling out of sorts.

"But Meg!"

" . And _never _come back!"

When she opened her eyes, the room was empty.

And she couldn't even cry as loud as she wanted. She shouldn't shed a single tear for Erik if she wanted his safety.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 06 –

La Sorelli wasn't as good as Meg, but was as good as it gets. Madame Giry was constantly correcting her posture and finding it all so absurd. What had happened to Meg? She just looked so... _miserable_. Even her beautiful hair was opaque, her blue gray eyes lost its spark... And she danced without any soul!

The poor mother tried to investigate, to inquire, to pry... But the answer was always "Oh, dear Mama! It's all right, I'm fine!" followed by a kiss on the cheek.

But a mother knew better. And Madame Giry prayed every night for a change. Should she take Meg from the Corps and promote her to Prima-Ballerina?

Something told her it was a bad idea.

Anyway, the change came. Sooner than the lady expected.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Three months later, the new Opera Patron was visiting. He had yellow medium-length hair, blue eyes, cherub mouth and a very symmetrical face. Overall, he seemed pleased with the environment. But ballet was what attracted him there, and he wanted to see for himself if the excellence of the Opera's ballet was not only gossip.

During rehersals, Madame Giry was nervous. And that was saying a lot. Her ballerinas were being scrutinized.

"_Stop!"_ he demanded, pointing with the cane.

"Sorry, sir?" said Meg. "Have I done something wrong?"

"On the contrary. _You_ are the one who are doing everything right. What's your name?"

"Meg Giry, sir."

"I don't mean to be forward, but I'd love to have dinner with you tonight."

Madame Giry became a dragon and went towards the poor boy.

"She's my daughter! My little girl! She won't be treated like your mistress!"

When they realized there was laughter and an audience, they stopped dead.

"We discuss that later." Madame Giry said between teeth.

The boy smiled to Meg, who smiled back.

But someone was not smiling.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

After the ballet, Madame Giry gave the youngsters some space.

"Hi." said Meg, ashamed. He kissed her hand.

"Your name, I know, beautiful Meg. Mine is Phillippe, Baron of Castelot-Barbezac."

"Oh. Pleased to meet you." she made a reverence.

"None of that." he held her hand. "How about the dinner?"

Meg's heart was beating so fast it threatened to explode her ribcage.

"Um... Anytime... Phillippe."

"What a most enchanting smile. You are to be Prima-Ballerina, Meg."

"_No!_ I mean, no Phillippe, I am such a coward. Please, respect my wishes."

He analyzed her with his blue eyes twinkling.

"If you say so, beautiful Meg. As long as I can hold your hand."

She smiled, warmly.

"Always. As soon as you wait a tick for me to get ready for dinner."

"Ooh, can I watch?"

"Phillippe!" she laughed.

Meg left and he said to himself, smirking:

"It wasn't a joke, though."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 –

After dinner, the Baron took Meg to see his extensive property. He had so many horses!

"What's the name of this one?" she asked, bewildered.

"Whichever name you wish. It's yours."

Meg's eyes got the size of saucers.

"Why the surprise?" asked Phillippe. "You knew I'd fallen for you from the first time I saw you."

He approached, slowly. Meg was clearly apprehensive. But their lips touched, their tongues entwined.

Meg broke the kiss.

"This is... This is all so sudden!"

"All right Meg. You're all right. Oh, gosh, you're trembling! I'm sorry Meg. We'll take it slow."

"No. How long do you intend to go on with that farce?"

Phillippe was puzzled.

"Excuse me?"

"I _know_ what you want. You think I'm a cheap ballerina. You get it, then you disappear."

He started laughing. Loudly. Meg was insulted.

"Why, Meg... Don't you want it, too?"

She slapped him. Hard. Well, that was a surprise.

"All right, Meg. I didn't mean to offend you. I just feel that you are... My Destiny."

Fat drops of tears fell from Meg's eyes, wetting her cheeks. He touched one and licked.

"Yes, I want it." she said.

He guided her by the hand to the Great House, the Mansion.

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Every day now, Meg danced with all the dignity of her being. Everyone noticed the change on her after the dinner with the Baron.

Madame Giry was thoughtful. What had actually happened between the two of them? Well, she was no fool. She could guess. But even as a mother she knew she couldn't pry on Meg's personal affairs.

"You, Sorelli! Take Meg's place. Meg, you are the Prima-Ballerina from now on."

Sorelli was enraged. Meg couldn't care less anymore. She wouldn't accept being blackmailed. At least, not anymore.

When Phillippe made love to her, Meg felt some kind of energy take over. She felt beautiful, strong, powerful. And so much more she couldn't put into words. It could bring her to tears. She had never felt anything so... _intense_.

And behind all that, Meg felt there was a promise. She felt safe. Protected.

_Loved_.

"By a complete stranger."

"What are you smiling about, Meg?" snapped Madame Giry. Go to your place!"

The ballerina didn't even realize she had been thinking out loud. Great. Now La Sorelli would think she was happy with her demotion.

At least, that afternoon and a few others, things went smoothly.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

La Sorelli was bitterlly lying in her bed when someone knocked on the door.

"It can't be Cecille." she thought. "She always practices till late hours hoping to become good enough."

Opening the door, she saw an exquisite blonde man holding chocolates and champagne.

"Oh, Baron! I think you got the wrong room." she said with a nothing prude smile.

"Indeed. Can you give me directions? Where is Meg's room?"

La Sorelli shamelessly approached him.

"Why not stay here for a while? You can have a good time as well."

He imposed some respectable distance and said:

"I'll go find it myself. Thank you, Miss."

He left, without staring behind. While La Sorelli, more humiliated than ever, swore revenge.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

While Phillippe and Meg ate, talked, laughed and kissed, someone observed, distraught.

"So that's why you don't want me around anymore, Little Meg." Erik shed a tear. "I'm used to rejection, but it never ceases to hurt."

Why, Meg had been his _friend_, different than Chr... No, he couldn't think of it. But it was different. Why had she dropped him, and so sudden? It made no sense. Erik was an intelligent man. No, he was a _genius_. He should have realized before something was amiss.

He needed to talk to Meg. And he would do it.

He came back to his Lair and wrote a note. He was starting to think that that was what he did best. Which was great, given the circumstances.

As Erik didn't intend to spy on Meg, he waited for a long time. His timing was perfect, for she was asleep when he left the note by her side and got back to his Lair.

Meg seemed to have felt and woke up instantaneously.

"Oh, no... Erik..."

**_"We need to talk. Something is not right. You are hiding information. Come to my Lair as soon as you wake up. You don't need to go to the other room. There is a passage by your own mirror. Look for a button on the upper part to actionate the mechanism. This is not an invitation, Meg. Do come."_**

She understood. Understood very well. And knew exactly what to do.

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

"But Madame Giry! You must believe me!" cried La Sorelli, interrupting Little Jammes ballet jam session. "There is a Phantom! And... and Meg talks to him!"

Madame Giry got interested.

"Meg?"

"Meg! And... And everyday!"

Madame Giry started pacing to and fro.

"What could my Meg want with The Phantom of the Opera?"

"Ah! So you do know about it!"

"Girl, don't be naïve! Everybody here knows about it!"

La Sorelli started chewing her lower lip.

"Maybe... If we investigate her room..." suggested La Sorelli.

"She's with Phillippe in there now." Madame Giry said it drily.

"No, he has already left. She is probably with the Phantom."

That was such a high gamble. But La Sorelli was desperate.

"Let's go." Madame Giry started dragging La Sorelli by the arm.

"Hey, what about me?" complained Little Jammes, completely aloof.

"Shut up, girl." snapped Madame Giry to a wide-eyed Cecille.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

And La Sorelli never felt such relief to see she had been right for the first time.

"What's this?" Madame Giry grabbed a small piece of paper. She read, appalled.

"Sorelli. Gather as many people as you can. This is a rescue operation."

88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

"Erik, I wanted to tell you. But I was so scared..."

Erik was in another dimension.

"Who would go to such lengths to protect _me_?"

"Erik! I'm talking to you!" demanded Meg.

When he looked at that cornsilk hair ballerina, dressed as the lady she would be someday, he felt the kindness he never had received. _The other one_... She gave him only pity.

He couldn't help but hold her. And she held him back.

Strange. It was as if he belonged there. And she belonged there. They were best friends and had a bond which would never be broken.

They heard a loud noise that destroyed the idylic moment. It was a multitude. People. Coming torwards them.

"But... how...?" asked Meg. "I told you so! We couldn't..."

"Listen to me, Little Meg. If I die today, you gave me everything I never had."

She was crying. When she realized, a pistols were pointed at him and she put herself right in front, to protect.

"Meg, get out of the way!" cried her mother, concerned.

"No! You all are not to hurt him! If he goes, I go together!"

"That's pathetic." mocked one of the crowd, echoing the thoughts of everyone. "I'll shoot both of them!"

"No! She's my daughter!"

But they shot, regardless. So many bullets. In the end, Meg had no idea of how she was still almost glued to Erik, both alive.

Until she heard a small moan.

"La Sorelli!" she shouted, holding the ballerina's hand. "What... what have you done?"

"I... I'm sorry Meg. Please, forgive me. F... find it in your... heart to forgive me."

"Sorelli..." Erik was confused and Meg was crying. Then, she saw a bloody paper in her hand.

_The note._

"Oh, La Sorelli..." weeped Meg.

Madame Giry was inconsolable. The multitude dispersed.

"Mother... Go to your room. Too much damage was already done."

This time, mother obeyed daughter.

When everybody left, Meg kissed Erik's cheek and said:

"Either you get a job, or move out."

He was crying too. And knew what to do. Time to face the music.

La Sorelli's body floated on the lake for a long time. There were many flowers in Erik's Lair. While he sprinkled them in the water, Meg prayed.

Then, she disappeared.

And both of them hoped it had been towards Heaven.


End file.
